Listen
by itwasawonderfulsplash
Summary: Bender and Claire get into a fight again, and Brian thinks it's just the usual. But if it is, then why is Claire looking so upset?
1. Part 1

"Have you seen John?"

Brian Johnson jumped from his chair, his ass literally leaving the seat and then thudding back down on the hard wood. Startled, he shot a look at whoever had unwelcomingly and suddenly forced him from his previous thoughts on the glorious subject of physics.

"I'm serious, Brian, have you seen John anywhere?" Claire Standish asked, annoyance filling her pretty - albeit, in Brian's humble opinion, slightly whiny - voice. The popular redhead looked as chipper as always today. Well, Brian amended, maybe chipper wasn't the best word. Lovely? Too pure. Good? Too plain. T-

_"Brian!" _He jerked his head up yet again as his trailing thoughts were yanked back to the forceful girl standing in front of him.

"Sorry," he said a mite sheepishly, and she sighed, puffing out her bangs with frustration, and he frowned with sudden annoyance. "And no, I haven't seen John, thanks _so much_ for asking so politely." The last words came out with more bite than he meant, and he was a little cowed at the guilty look that came upon Claire's face.

"I'm sorry too," she sighed, and bit her lip. It made her look very attractive, he noticed, and wondered fleetingly if she herself knew this and used it to her advantage. "I just-" She broke off and ran a slender hand through her hair. "We..."

"Had another fight?" Brian suggested. He had been in this situation with Claire – and a few surprising times, Bender – before, and each time was pretty much the same. He wanted to roll his eyes at the two, who, though they obviously liked each other very much, were just so fucking stubborn that they sometimes fought over the pettiest, stupidest things. They had been dating for four months, been "together" six if you counted the time period in between that fateful detention and the day that John had finally asked Claire to be his girlfriend.

"Yes," she muttered with a slight scowl. _Ah, _Brian thought with some amusement, _it was one of _those _days. _It was a little mean of him to find humor in the ongoing situation between his two friends, but he really couldn't help it. It _was _funny! Andy even agreed with him, though Allison had shaken her head at the two of them and gone off to find Claire the last time this had happened, murmuring something that sounded very much like, "Boys."

"Let me guess," he said now, propping his head on his elbow. "He insulted your name again."

"No."

"Your house?"

"Nope."

"Friends?"

"No, Brian."

Okay, he was beginning to get a little peeved. Why the damn guessing game? If she wanted his help, or advice, or just needed to vent, then she should just tell him already without forcing him to play Twenty Questions. Unwillingly, he grumbled, "So what did he do, then?"

Claire looked down, caught in a sudden wave of shyness. This surprised the boy sitting in front of her – _she still hasn't sat down. _The girl didn't usually hold back much, especially since she had gotten the huge weight of her parents, her friends, and her lifestyle off of her chest in the detention four months prior. She was feisty and daring at times, sweet and sensitive others, and a bit of a bitch the rest. Still, that was what made Claire, Claire, and each of the members of the Breakfast Club accepted her that way-

Oh wait, she was mumbling something. _Darn, I must've missed it when I was caught up thinking again. Mom was right, maybe I do need those pills the doctor- stop_!

"Could you repeat that?" he asked, taking in her awkward stance, fidgeting hands, and the curtain of red hair – she had let it grow out – that hid most of her face. _Hmm. _

She was biting her lip again, glancing up at him through the haze of red. Feeling like this might take a while, he gestured at the empty desk beside his in the abandoned AP Physics classroom, and resigned himself to not being able to complete his homework until later tonight. His mother would be angry, yes, but it was his duty as a person and a friend to help Claire.

She slumped on the desk, legs trailing over the side as she sighed yet again.

"Okay, seriously, lunch ends in fifteen minutes, Claire," he reminded a little impatiently. It wasn't entirely in his nature to say what he thought, almost the opposite of her. He was still getting used to having people that knew him well, that liked him, that talked and listened and helped him when he wanted it, and even more importantly, when he didn't. He was gratified when she seemed to gain resolve and looked him full in the face, knowing with something akin to pride, and maybe even a little wonder, that she wouldn't be here, sharing her problems, unless she trusted him.

He was smiling as she began to speak, but by the end of her sentence his jaw was hanging limply somewhere around his ankles.

"John... John told me he loved me," she whispered, brown eyes swimming slightly as she paused then for a response.

He was still shocked for another several moments before he closed his mouth. "I- he... what? _John Bender _told you he loved you? Are you sure?"

She nodded, looking stricken. Brain was confused at her reaction; shouldn't she be really happy about this? He knew she loved John, she had for a long time. Hell, she'd even had a mild crush on (or more like interest in) him _before _the Detention. So why did it look like she was about to cry at any moment?

She continued, however, before he could voice his queries. "And I" - she let out a squeak muffled by her fist - "I didn't even say anything. I _ran away from him_."

Brian winced. _Yikes. _

Her tears were flowing in earnest now, running over her pale cheeks. Her lips, unadorned by her customary lipstick, were trembling with emotion. He pitied her, but did not move to comfort or hug her- he knew, by now, that she needed more than anything to get this out, and that required a little tough love on his part.

"So... your boyfriend tells you he loves you, and you leave him without an answer," he summarized, feeling a slight stab as she glared at him through her tears.

"Yes." It wasn't more than a slightly hoarse whisper.

And now for the real juice... "Why?" he asked with real curiosity. She wasn't looking at him at the moment, instead deeming to gaze at her boots without real thought. When he made an impatient noise, she looked back up.

"I don't know," she said, and wiped her eyes harshly with the back of her hand. Her mascara had smeared a little, but she didn't notice. "I just panicked, I guess. I couldn't... say it back..."

Brian really wanted to sigh, but was mercifully well aware that doing so would only anger and/or upset Claire more, and he wasn't really a big fan of either of those things happening. So he egged her on a bit more, hoping to come to the root of the problem here. "Why not?" he inquired gently.

Tears were still slipping out of her eyes, but her cheeks flushed with a challenge and her jaw instantly set. "I love John," she admitted, something Brian indeed already knew, "but I guess that I was..." She sighed a bit, and he could tell that self-analyzing was something that she did often, and not with relish. "I guess I was still thinking that I don't deserve him. I mean," she went on as Brian moved to interrupt, "I haven't _done _anything to earn his... love. I make fun of him all the time, I'm rude, and snobby, and I always forget to call on the weekends-"

"Claire-"

"And," she continued with an air of increasing hysteria, "he even quit smoking for me, and I haven't even told Monica or Sam about us yet. You know how they are," she sniffed. He did. Monica and Sam were Claire's apparent best friends. Cheerleaders and potential prom-queens, both of them, and each were catty, cruel, and fulfilled every single bitch-cheerleader-cliche ever known to man. Actually, Brian rather thought they were worse. "Every time they see him, they say something so _awful _and I just _laugh. _I'm such a coward," she moaned, her face hidden behind long hands. "He doesn't deserve to have such a terrible girlfriend."

He was silent for a moment, staring at her. Did she really feel this way about herself? He reflected fleetingly that this little pity-party could be a very sneaky way of forcing-without-forcing him to compliment her, but after less than a second's consideration of this he threw the idea away. Claire wasn't one to need approval, or actively seek it from most. She had no lack of self-confidence, and this breakdown seemed to be genuinely showcasing her feelings at the moment.

"Do you mind if I cut in for a moment, Cherry?" a voice interrupted. Both teenagers were thrown completely off track as they spun around to see a completely relaxed John Bender lounging against the doorway.

1/2

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A/N: Hehe. Bit of a cliffy there, eh? I hope it means you're interested enough to tune in to part two?

Reviews are love, inspiration, et cetera. PLEASE review. Pretty please with John on top?

Oohh...


	2. Part 2

It amused Brian to see Claire's face alter so drastically in so little a time. In just a millisecond, she went from pale and sniffling to red-faced and cowed. If it had been any other situation (well, maybe not _any _other, but you get the picture) he'd have pointed this out, paired with a witty comparison between Claire's facial changes and the Earth's surface over a billion years. As it were, however, he decided he'd be best to just attempt to blend in and see if maybe they'd forget he was here.

Because John was pretty much glaring daggers at Claire, and Brian thought that if he remained within the line of fire, the force of the gaze would kill _him_.

He sighed. Couldn't these two just _listen _to each other for once?

------

_Fucking Cherry. Goddamn no good dirty rotten-_

John swore. All this swearing couldn't be good for his soul. He swore again, and then swore to himself that he'd stop swearing.

_Fu- darn Claire. _He hated her, right now. Really, really, really hated her. She'd gotten him so wrapped around her cute (_agh!_) little pinky finger, and then the moment he tries to be a nice guy, and tell her his darn _feelings_, she runs off! What the heck? Who DOES that to a person, much less a person they claim to adore (she'd told him no less than three times), someone they'd been dating for nearly five months?! It just wasn't right. She obviously had some kind of genetic disease, probably something to do with her being a ginger.

_Nobody likes gingers. They're dying out anyways. _

Okay, now he was just being mean, not to mention plain untrue. But god! He was so embarrassed!

True, he looked really cool here, leaning moodily against the brick exterior of Shermer High's uninspiring walls, chewing on a cigarette (_take _that_, Cherry! I'll teach you to give me ultimatums!_) with a pensive - yet oh-so-badass - look on his face. But inside- ugh, it was mess in there. It was like his house when his father was more drunk than usual: a complete wreck. His heart, that traitorous organ, was probably brutally murdered and laying in pieces in varying extremities (in order for the evidence to be better hidden, you understand). His lungs, he was pretty sure, were going to make it- but just barely. His poor, poor liver, well, that was another story. It had surely burst the moment she had run away from-

_Okay, this no-swearing thing is really screwing me up. Fuck.... Oh, that's way better._

Still though, something clearly had to be done here! He was just wallowing away after having been humiliated by his girlfriend in the worst possible manner. Why was _John Bender - _rock and roll king, badass extraordinaire, sex-on-a-stick – taking her abuses lying down? She was certainly not holding her punches, if her hit-and-run earlier was any indication, so why should he?

Mollified and armed with a vague, indignant plan, he set off for the front doors, then through the hallways towards the general directed Claire had run to. Did she even have any classes over here? He didn't think so; this was the math and science section of the building, and he knew for a fact that she _hated _math and science so why-?

Aha. _Johnson. _That was it! She obviously ran over here to- to what? Talk to Johnson about her feelings of revulsion for John? To tremblingly confess that she didn't like him, not that way, that she was interested in someone else... Andy? Johnson himself?! It was too horrible to bear thinking of, especially the part where she hypothetically dumps himself for a dweeb like Johnson. Yeah, he could be cool, and alright, he was a pretty good listener but- _damn._ The guy was just so geeky! There was no WAY she would go for Johnson above him.

But Andy...

John wasn't one for self-questioning, but this bout hit him hard, somewhere right above his navel. There was this icky little squirming in his gut, like he was gonna throw up or something, that was making his eyes water a bit- the pain of it, obviously, was too much for his body to handle. Definitely. Though perhaps the thought of Claire unceremoniously dumping him for Clark certainly wasn't helping.

_Would she really go for Andy_? _Over ME?_

He stormed through the hallways, first checking the Physics classroom, which was empty (no surprise there), all the Advanced math classes he could find, the Biology lab... What other place _was _there?!

Oh, wait. Duh. The one place all nerds flock to: the library!

Flushed with what he knew would be success, John fairly flew up the stairs three at a time, stumbling into the depressingly empty library a few moments later. Huffing slightly, he quickly surveyed the room. Books, books, tables, Claire and Brian, books, computers- wait, go back two! _Claire and Brian! Yes! _

They were in this weird room with all-glass walls, each of them sitting in desks with their backs to him, with the door wide open, ensuring that he was able to hear them quite clearly.

"...they say something so _awful_ and I just _laugh_. I'm such a coward," she was moaning, with her face covered by her hands.

_Too fucking right_, John thought nastily.

"He doesn't deserve to have such a terrible girlfriend," she continued, and then there was a pause as Johnson didn't respond. Bender himself was doing some quick thinking. Did this mean that she really was guilty of something horrible, like cheating on him (he would _kill _Clark!) and she was just acknowledging that she was a bad girlfriend because of it? Ugh, ugh, and double ugh. He knew he shouldn't have messed with a ginger!

Great. Now he was lying to himself to cover up the way _the pain in his stomach was making _his eyes well up even more. He actually thought her hair was rather... nice. It was certainly unique, and he always spotted her immediately in the hallways because of it.

He felt the need to cut in on this conversation, maybe give her a little taste of her own damn medicine. Surely a few well-placed insults on her part would make him feel a little better? It was worth a shot.

Making sure his signature – and quite sexy - glare was in place, he stepped through the doorway and slumped badassily (his word, not mine) against the frame. "Do you mind if I cut in for a moment, Cherry?"

_Point one for Bender_, he thought smugly. _She _hates_ being called Cherry._

_--------_

_I hate being called Cherry, and he knows that, and I know he knows I know that. _

As annoyed as this comment made her, Claire still looked down at the sight of John glaring at her. She definitely deserved it, after all. _She _was the one who ran off on him while he was declaring his undying, devoted love and adoration for her under a cloudless, delightful sky.

Or something like that.

Regardless, she was the bitch at fault here, and she was just going to have to force him to listen, no matter what.

_How embarrassing, though!_

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A/N: Sorry for another cliffhanger on part 3... muahahahaha. I'm evil. But hopefully it's keeping you interested?

I'd love you forever (and update faster, hinthintnodnodwinkwink) if you **review **and tell me your opinion! If you can read it, you can review it, people. I do hate to be a naggy bitch, but they really do make my day and **encourage me to write faster **(hinthintnodnodwinkwink). Got it?

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter so far: **rylyxo4**, **faux-prada**, and **SleepEnBeauty**! It's much appreciated; this one's for you, guys!


	3. Part 3

"Well?" John said impatiently then, one eyebrow cocked, waiting.

Claire Standish raised her head to glare at the boy who had spoken so sneeringly. She was suddenly a little pissed. Her _boyfriend_, one John Bender, had, just earlier that day - actually, like an hour and a half ago - charmingly informed her that he loved her, and now he was glowering fiercely at her as if she were Vernon himself. _Hey, _she tried to remind herself, _he loves me. Remember, Claire? That's why we're standing here glaring at each other: he loves me, and I ran away. My fault. He has every right to be angry at me._

She physically winced at the thought of it. It seemed that her avoidant personality had panicked and grabbed the reigns (so to speak) out of her mind's hands and took the fuck off in the opposite direction. Running away had seemed a very natural reaction at the time, and even now, Claire could see why she did it. That didn't mean that it was the right thing to do; it wasn't. She had left John hanging and abandoned him when he had put himself out on the line. She'd regretted running the second she had stopped, puffing, outside the cafeteria.

After a few moments of silent, _Oh my god, what did I do?_-ing, she'd decided to turn back and explain. But as she poked her head through the door to see where he was, she found that he had gone, completely vacated the schoolyard. That was when she had decided to go ask Brian.

But telling John would be difficult, if not impossible. He was just so _stubborn_! She had a feeling that he would refuse to listen to the explanation, which could lead to two very bad things: one (the less-bad option), he could be mad at her for a while, avoid her, and then, in a few weeks, come back and make up with her. Okay. She could theoretically do that, yes. But the thing was, Claire didn't want to. Why should she have to wait for the ignorant turd to make up his mind that he was ready to forgive her? She wasn't especially the waiting type.

Two, and much worse, he could break it off with her. And if he did... well, she couldn't in all honesty say it would be wholly unexpected. From the beginning she had known that John Bender was wild, carefree, and unrepentant. These were, after all, the characteristics that had initially attracted her to him at the detention.

But over time, and much breaking down of his mental walls, she had found his other, more hidden, qualities. As much as outward appearances said otherwise, John Bender could be gentle, sweet, and kind. He liked metal, pot, and smoking, yes, but he also, she discovered, thoroughly enjoyed late-night phone conversations, romantic comedies (this she'd been sworn to secrecy upon pain of certain death), and swinging at the park, though he was certainly no prince charming. He was more than a little rough around the edges, but that didn't mean he was a bad person. In fact, she was very much convinced that he was a good person, no matter what he said otherwise.

Which was why she was obligated to tell him the truth now. She saw Brian discreetly flick his eyes between the pair, sizing up the situation. He was hidden, hoping they'd forget he was here? Well, whatever. So what if he heard what should normally be a private conversation? She and Bender were really the opposite of normal.

"Right," she sighed, and John's eyebrow rose even higher. "Oh, don't give me that look, John," she snapped, brushing her hair off her face. "I just couldn't say it back, alright? I freaked. That's it." _Shit. Why did I say that?! Now he knows I'm--_

"Lying, Claire?" he interjected her thoughts smoothly, stepping forward to tower over her. "I never knew you were such a pussy."

Her mouth twisted. "You know I hate that word."

"That is clearly not all there is to that story, and I suggest you tell me the real thing." He didn't even bother to respond to her! Sometimes Bender could be such a maggot.

She glared, angry again, and jumped up from the desk to poke him roughly in the chest. "Fine! You want the real story? I _just wasn't ready_! Love is so big for me, John, and after imagining it for seventeen years and not experiencing it, I just- I don't know how to tell."

John wanted to throw something. Did she think that it was easy for him to admit to himself - MUCH LESS HER! - that he loved her? Was she really that naive? Because in John's world, before Claire came along and fucked it all up with her tra-la-la-la bullshit, there _was _no love. Certainly not by him, and he suspected not to him either. His parents? That's a good one. Dear old dad was always more shitfaced than any person had the right to be, and as for mom, well, she just spent her time pretending that neither of them existed. It was always a grand freaking time in the Bender household, that was for sure.

Stupid Claire. She just _had _to come into his life and scramble everything about until he didn't know right from left, didn't she? He wanted to glare, or better yet, get high. Why not? The stuff was an aphrodisiac. Where most people took prescription meds, John smoked pot, although he never got in to the heavy stuff. He might have been an idiot, but god, he wasn't a complete moron.

"Well gee, Claire," he said, pretending to be cowed, "I guess you're right. You're the _only fucking one _here who's never been in love before, the only one who has no clue what they're doing and is scared shitless by this whole thing!" He sneered.

She crossed her arms. "That's not what I meant."

He snorted. "But it's what you said."

"But that's not what I meant!" Claire stomped her foot, frustrated beyond belief.

Stubbornly: "But it's what you said, Cherry."

"_That's not what I_--"

"GUYS!" Startled, their heads turned in comic unison to blink at Brian, who had interrupted their little screaming match with a yell of his own. He was running long hands through his hair and looking distinctly ruffled. "Both of you clearly have some issues that you need to work out here, and I suggest you do so before--"

"I'm trying but _John _here is being a fucking prick," Claire griped, throwing a glare John's way for good measure. For his part, he threw up his hands.

"And Claire's been a goddamn saint, fighting against Big Bad John Bender for all that is good and nice in this world," he said sarcastically. Soon enough they were glaring daggers at each other, and both of them opened their mouths to yell some more when--

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SIT THE _HELL _DOWN. RIGHT NOW!"

John thought he really might have shit his pants.

Claire wouldn't have been more surprised if Madonna dropped dead right then.

Both of them did as they were told, and shut the fuck up and dropped into seats without another word or glare.

Brian was bent over, staring angrily at each of them in an aggressive way neither of them has seen from the normally calm boy. "Now listen," he began, breathing heavily, "for the past four months you two have had issues, which I get. In relationships, I've been told, that happens. But both of you--" He sent them Death Glares. "--are being ridiculous. You're acting like moronic fifth graders that hit whoever they like. I'm always in the way and I'm _sick _of it. You're going to sit down right here and talk it out." When neither made any kind of move, he slammed a hand down on a desk, and both jumped. "_Now_."

John squinted hard at Brian, trying to get him to die via anger, but it didn't work. He sighed and turned to face Claire, who had a hard (and, he had to admit, quite sexy) look on her face.

He stuck out a hand. "Hi, I'm John Bender. You are?"

She looked skeptical but shook his hand regardless. "...Claire Standish." She sent a quick look at Brian, who was guardedly observing. He nodded his head to continue. "So what's brought you into this situation, John?" she asked, feeling for all the world like a child counselor.

He settled back into his chair. "Well, I told my girlfriend something pretty damn big and she ran away from me." He looked down. "Then I figured she'd be here talking to Master and Commander over there, and here I am. You?"

"My boyfriend told me he loves me, and I ran away," she admitted. Wait. How could she admit to John something he already knew? Whatever. This whole strangers-talking thing seemed to be working, so she went with it. "I was afraid of his rejection, and..." She looked up, entreating him to believe her. "And how was I supposed to know what love was? I don't love anyone in that way, I've never known anyone who does... What if I told him that I loved him when I don't?" When John didn't reply, she went on, "I really didn't want to hurt him, you know. I didn't. But something was just telling me that if I said those words back I'd be, I don't know, not sure if I was lying or not and that wouldn't be fair to him."

"Though you did do it a little harshly," he commented, and she made an apologetic face.

"I know. I'm really sorry about that." She bit her lip, thinking. "I wonder why he decided to tell me today, though. I mean, why now?"

John was silent for a moment before he spoke, leaning forward. "My dad went apeshit last night. Started yelling at my mom and telling her she was worthless and all this other terrible stuff. And I just thought, 'Man, I could never do that to Claire,' and then I asked myself why, and it took me a few hours, you know, but I figured it out by morning."

She couldn't talk. Couldn't think. That was so much more... intense than she was expecting, and after a moment, John caught her purposeless look of pity. "Don't look at me like that, Claire."

She was tearing up and trying not to. "John, I--"

"It's fine, you know," he interrupted, clearly not wanting to talk about his family, "what you did. I don't really blame you, I was just embarrassed."

"It is so not cool what I did!" she exclaimed vehemently with a shake of her head. "It was lame and awful and just- I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "I know."

Both were quiet for a few moments, looking to the side, before Claire glanced up, smiling. "But you know, you really should listen to me. You were a complete asshole until now."

He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit that was ridiculously endearing at the moment. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, and about forcing you into a corner with the whole... this morning thing. That was pretty Vernon of me."

"When did 'Vernon' become a- an, um, adjective?" Damn grammar terms.

But John was smirking. "A little trouble there, Claire?" She burst out laughing, and gave him a playful glare that held no malice.

"Go fuck yourself," she said, but they were both grinning in a decidedly un-Claire-and-John way. "Oh, by the way," she added carelessly, as if she'd just thought of this (she'd been wanting to ask for five months but never had the guts), "do you still have that earring?"

John shook his head a little, lips still upturned. "Pawned it." He paused. "Is that... okay?"

"Fine," she shrugged, and it was. An earring was just an earring. She had John and that was what mattered.

…"Claire."

"John?"

"We haven't kissed in almost four hours."

_Must be a world record for them_, Brian thought. He wanted to laugh, but was too jealous of those two idiots to do so.

Claire smirked. "Must be a world record for us." To which John nodded in amused agreement.

"So get the hell over here." Pause. "Please."

She happily complied, and a second later she was seated on his desk in front of him, hands smoothing the collar of his shirt as he looked up. "I really like you, you know," she said quietly, hands threading through his coarse hair.

"Oh, I know" was all he replied, but the pleased little tint on his cheekbones was answer enough. John knocked their foreheads together...

...And Brian was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. He was sure that neither of his friends would appreciate him watching them make out, but they were blocking the door and they _really _didn't look like they wanted to be interrupted right now.

When his mouth was an inch away from hers, John whispered, "Hey Claire?"

Talking wasn't exactly number one on her list of things she wanted to be doing right now, but she answered anyways. "Yes John?"

"The earring is in my pocket."

She was the first to kiss him.

Damn, she loved John Bender.

A minute later:

"BRIAN! Get out of here before I rip your nuts off!"

"You always overreact, J- _mmph_."

THE END

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End A/N: Yeeeeeeeeeeee! I finished a chaptered story! I'm dancing a little. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all my reviewers, and special ultra-delicious holiday yummies to the multiple reviewers (you know you you are, you awesome people, you!).

Reviews are loved. :)


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